Siriusly Out of Control
by rbrammer
Summary: I'm Jenna. I've got 4 brothers, a little sister, & my best mate is James Potter... That's it. This isn't just some life story. This is my seventh and final year at Hogwarts, for Merlin's sake! First of all, James Potter is not my boyfriend! No matter what Albus and Devil-boy says. This whole year has just gotten siriusly out of control.
1. From Homework to the Hospital Wing

"Come on, Jen," James Sirius Potter said lazily, his black hair messy and adorable as ever. He gazed into my eyes with mock sincerity. "Let's stop studying; it's a lovely day outside! We could be practicing Quidditch!" He said the word fervently, like a man obsessed. Which, of course, he was.

"We have a foot due for Professor Quoin on moonstone, spell practice for Flitwick, an essay for History of Magic," we both rolled our eyes; it was our most hated subject, as everyone else's, "_and_ we have prefect duties. We're supposed to make up a new password, not to mention patrol later." I looked at him severely, then added, "Besides, wouldn't practicing Quidditch be the same as studying? It's practice."

James scowled, his face in what I can only describe as a pout. "Don't ever insult Quidditch again! It's nothing like this rubbish," he grumbled, throwing his hands up in dismay as he glared at his schoolwork. "I want to go down to the pitch," he said miserably, sounding like a petulant child.

"And you can, once we finish our work," I reminded him. I had to grin at the desperate look he gave me, slumping down onto the couch in the common room, scowling and muttering to himself.

"Jenna McIntire, you're a shrew!" James yelled dramatically a few minutes later, causing a few first years to jump with fright, and one third year girl to nearly alight the common room in flames with a misfired spell. I gave James a reprimanding look, to which he rolled his eyes. "Oh, quiet, you. Don't act like my mum, Jen, it's highly off-putting." He shuddered, and I understood exactly. Ginny Potter was a scary woman when she was angry, and that was exactly what she would have been, had she seen James nearly cause the destruction of the Gryffindor common room.

I sighed, looking over at him with a sour expression. "Why exactly am I a shrew?" James had a habit of yelling out random names at me when he was frustrated, so by then I was well used to it.

James shrugged, grabbing at a piece of parchment, looking at it with a fierce dislike. "D'you know why the professors assign us so much work?" He asked with a frown, his eyes quite serious.

I roll my eyes. _Alright, I'll bite_. "Why, James?" I ask tiredly, just wanting to get our freaking homework done. Why is it that I have a habit of picking best mates that are crazy? Except Albus, but that's only because he's James's brother. And Mags Thomas, but that was different. Maggie was just a different kind of crazy.

"They want us to go insane," James said with a knowing air. He looked at me as if we were sharing a delicate secret that couldn't be shared with just anyone. "They know that we've got other things on our mind, other teachers' work to do, not to mention just studying for these stupid exams we always take, and most importantly, _Quidditch_!" At this, James looked furious.

"Don't you think, maybe, _just maybe_, that they're trying to prepare us for the exams?" I asked skeptically, which caused James to roll his eyes again. I sighed, slamming my book down on the small table in front of us. "That's it. Go put your books away," I ordered forcefully, glaring.

James looked confused for a moment, before realization hit him. He gave me a giddy grin before sweeping up all of his papers and cramming them into his rucksack, along with the only two books that he had managed to extricate from his room since September. He paused, looking at me shrewdly. "Does this mean we get to go to the pitch?" He asked, looking for some sort of trick.

I rolled my eyes, scowling. "Yes, dung-head. Now, go get your broom before I change my mind."

James darted up the stairs to the boys' dormitory, but was back again as quickly as he had went. Breathless, James grinned crookedly. I knew that grin, and he only used it when he wanted to get something. "Your broom, too?"

"You bloody wanker, just hurry up!" I yelled gruffly, grinning despite myself. A small wave of shame rolled over me for giving James his way, but I ignored it. After all, it was a lovely day, and, hey, maybe I would run into the demon twins, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander, and they could help me get all this done. They may be slightly insane, but there was no denying it; the sixth-year Ravenclaws were the smartest people I'd ever met. Well, maybe besides Dumbledore's portrait, but let's face it, he was just _strange_.

"Are we going to go, Jen, or are you going to stay in your head all day?" James teased, grinning. He held two of the best brooms known to man in his arms, and, at my awed look, he shrugged. "I couldn't get up the girls' staircase. Turned into a bloody slide on me, so I just grabbed Fred's. He won't mind."

I raised my eyebrows, highly doubting this. For one, Freddie Weasley was almost as Quidditch-obsessed as James. Secondly, he treated his broom like it was royalty. Like, seriously, it was a very common sight to see Fred in the common room, polishing his broom and stroking it lovingly. Yes, I said _stroking_ it. I'm being legit. Thirdly, the man who bought this broom, the almighty George Weasley, owner of the biggest bloody prank shop in all of Britain, could and probably would (George was a Quidditch freak, just like all of the Wotters, except Louis, but no one ever knew what was going on in that kid's head, so he didn't count) hex me into oblivion should something happen to his son's prized broomstick. Which, knowing my luck with things like Quidditch, and, you know, overall balance and staying on the broom in general, something probably would. And I would turn into a big purple bloody dinosaur named Barney, singing and dancing for all the little Muggle brats. Seriously, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes actually had a product that could turn someone into the Muggle toddler singing-and-dancing sensation. Probably mostly for children's parties, or, you know, just to freak people out, but still. Not sure I'm ready to take the chance.

"Earth to Jen? We're wasting daylight here!" James grinned, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the portrait hole. "By the time you get done talking to yourself, it'd be past curfew."

"It's only two-thirty!" I cried in disbelief.

James glanced back at me, grinning cheekily. "I _know_. Have you ever met you?"

"I think it's impossible to have not met myself," I said seriously, frowning. Now that I think about it… _Hello, Brain? I'm Jen. Jenna McIntire, best mate of the crazy James Sirius Potter. Not the original James, mind you; this one's the son of the Chosen One, and all that jazz. Not that it makes that wanker special; he's insane! All he cares about his Quidditch, Quidditch, girls, Quidditch, food… Did I mention Quidditch? Anyway, the kid is crazy. All of the Wotters are, except Albus and Louis. Though, Albus _was_ sorted into Slytherin and he's best friends with a Malfoy, so, in all honesty, he's crazy too. I mean, who willingly befriends a Malfoy? Have you heard what they've done? Awful, all of it. Well, except that bit about the mother saving Mr. Potter's life that one time, but, that doesn't count. Her husband and son were still a couple dung-headed wankers. And, Louis… Well, I don't think any of us know what happened to Lou. I, personally, think he was dropped on his head as a child, but that's just me. James swears up and down he's always been this way, so the little sodding just-found-their-magic James and Freddie couldn't have done something to make him so… _normal.

"Jen?" James asked cautiously, stifling a grin. "Jenna, we're here. I'm gonna leave you on the bleachers to continue your talk… with yourself. Sound good, yeah?"

"_James Sirius Potter, I am not talking to myself!_" I'm _thinking_ to myself. Totally different.

"Ooh, she pulled the Sirius card. Nice move, Jen."

"Oh, sod off, Al." I frowned, realizing who I was talking to. And, once I did, I grinned from ear to ear. "ALBUS! WHERE THE BLOODY HELL HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE!" And, true to form, I attacked him. Well, not necessarily; I just tackled him into a bone-crushing hug. Which, I'm sure he enjoyed. I mean, it's me!

… _Wait a moment_. It's me. Great, I would be lucky if the arse didn't call the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for excessive hugging, or something like that. The kid's dad was the Head of the Auror department, not to mention he's been asked to be the Minister, like, thirty times since the Battle of Hogwarts. I'm pretty sure the Ministry would do anything with just a hint of the name 'Potter'.

"Um, Jenna?" Albus asked, his voice muffled, but I could still detect a hint of amusement. Whew. No restraining orders for Jenna. Well, not yet.

"Yes, Albus?" I asked politely, not moving an inch.

"Can I get up now?" Laughter spilled from his lips, and I scowled.

"What, you aren't comfortable like this? I think it's great." I grinned. That is, until Malfoy decided to butt in.

"Oh, come on, McIntire, you're crushing him!" Scorpius Malfoy, henceforth known as _the Devil Incarnate_, teased, smirking. "Besides, you're missing your boyfriend flying."

I moved off of Albus, but eyed them both suspiciously. "What are you lot doing here, anyway?"

Albus snorted, his green eyes dancing in the sunlight, expression mischievous. "Spying on my brother, of course. Got to know what we're up against this season. James is an idiot, but he's a Quidditch prodigy. We need to be on top of our game if we want to win the Cup this year."

"Again," said the damned Slytherin devil smugly, and he and Albus high-fived.

"Wait, so James_ is_ your boyfriend now?" Albus asked with an air of innocence, which no one believed, ever. Albus Potter was so far from innocent it's laughable. He hasn't been innocent since the day he was born. I mean, do you _know_ where he was before he was born? Absolutely _scandalous_. Ever since he got out, the boy has been trying to get back into one. Though, thankfully not the same one he came out of, which would be called _incest_. And just plain gross, if you ask me.

"No. Got anymore girls under your spell?" I wagged my brows suggestively, resisting the urge to laugh as Albus cringed. Girls flocked to follow him, though mostly only because he's '_Harry Potter's son'_! I guess after six years, the effect still hasn't worn off. James and Lily both got nearly as much attention, but for different reasons. Lily was confident, pretty, and skilled at bat-bogey hexes, just like her mother. It was a dangerous thing to get Lily Potter mad, and after she sent both of her brothers to the Hospital Wing for almost a week, it was not a thing many people attempted. James, as mentioned, was a Quidditch prodigy. He was a lazy arse at everything else, but the boy did have a way with a broomstick. Also, he and Freddie Weasley were known as legendary pranking geniuses. I mean, what else could come from the son of two of Hogwarts's most notorious pranksters, and the grandson of another? As the story goes, the Marauders (James's grandfather's friends: Moony [Remus Lupin], Padfoot [Sirius Black], and Prongs [James Potter]) were the most notorious pranksters Hogwarts had seen. They knew almost every secret about the castle, and they recorded it onto a piece of parchment that was called the Marauder's Map. This, I knew of, because when James was twelve, he filched it out of his dad's desk and we spent the better part of our second year figuring out how to work it. Well, apparently there's a charm on the map that records, and I quote, _honorary Marauders_. And Fred and George Weasley are the first on the list, followed quite closely by Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. I knew that James and Freddie were trying their hardest to get their names on that list.

"They won't leave him alone," Scorpius said with a smirk, and Albus scowled.

"I haven't had a moment of peace since first bloody year!" He cried, glaring. "Swear to Merlin, girls are overrated." At our incredulous looks, he added quickly, "Not that I don't like them or anything; girls have to be God's gift to man, but couldn't he have made the birds a little simpler? These girls are insane. Can't I have a normal girl follow me once in a while, just to switch things up?"

"Well, what's your definition of normal, Al?"

Al shrugged. "Well, I mean, _you're_ normal. Well, not _normal_ normal, but not bloody insane stalker-ish, either." I could disagree with this, but it would be highly counterproductive. Besides, the boy just gave me a compliment! Which could only mean one thing… _Where's Albus Potter and who the hell is this kid? _

"Jen! Jenna Louise McIntire, are you watching me, or do I have to come drag your bloody arse away from my brother and make you fly with me!" James shouted, a grin plastered on his face. His cheeks were tinged pink from the winds, and his hair was more messy and windblown than ever. I scowled.

"If you ever use my full name again, Potter, I will hunt down your sister and sic her on you!" I screamed, and James backed away slowly. This was not a threat to be ignored; Lily Potter, as said earlier, was dangerous. Plus, she owed me a favor and she had no problem at all hexing her brothers. I believed it brings her joy to best the boys who spent the better part of their childhood leaving her out because she was 'a dratted girl'. I grinned. "Nice flying, though!" I called to his retreating back, his robes fluttering in the wind as he dived up and down around the pitch like a bird. I think the air is his natural habitat. He must feel like a fish out of water all of the time. Poor bird-boy.

"Who's bird-boy?" Albus asked curiously, grinning.

_Oops. Did I say that aloud?_

"Yes. Yes you did. Now, who is bird-boy?" Albus pressed, repressing a laugh.

"James! He's like a bird, except… well, he hasn't any wings, or feathers. But his hair is soft as feathers, so that works out. He's like a bird on his broom; it's like he was meant to be up in the sky."

Albus snorted, and even demon-boy Malfoy cracked a grin. "Pretty deep, Jen," Al commented, smirking. "Are you sure you and James aren't a thing? 'Cause I could totally see that. I mean, you're calling him a bird."

"Albus Severus Potter, if you say another word about me and your brother being a 'thing'…" I threatened, scowling.

Al was too busy laughing to take notice of the use of his full name. "Denial is just one of the steps, love. You'll realize you're head over heels in love with Jamesie soon enough." He and Scorpius smirked at each other and began singing at the same time, "James and Jen, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…"

I smacked the back of Albus's head. "How old are you, again?" I asked grumpily, glaring.

Albus smiled back at me, quite content. "Six. How about you?"

And _that_ was when I snapped.

"So, look, I'm really, _really_ sorry about the whole hexing you thing," I said quickly. I mean, I really was feeling badly about what I'd done. Not that Albus didn't deserve to be hexed, because he did. It was just that he dodged out of the way and the spell missed, hitting James instead. I mean, hitting Al with a pretty powerful full body-bind curse wouldn't have been that bad. I just would have had to mutter the counter-curse when I thought he'd had enough. But James had been on his broom, roughly fifty feet in the air. Needless to say, the consequences were hideous.

"Next time, you aren't allowed to sit with my brother," James said grimly, struggling not to grin at me. I scowled, resisting the urge to smack him. _This wasn't funny! _When would those words make it through that thick skull of his? "The two of you are too dangerous to put next to each other; it's like putting a gas can over an open flame."

I look at him strangely, frowning. _What the…_ "What in Merlin's name is a gas can, and what does it have to do with fire?"

James snorted, grinning at me. "Some Muggle thing Granddad and I figured out last summer. I tell you, we about torched ourselves crispy for a minute, before Granddad remembered his wand and put out the fire. That gasoline stuff ignites much faster than I'd thought; I should probably mention it to Uncle George for his Muggle prank section; that stuff could definitely do some damage." He grinned mischievously, despite the ugly cuts on his face and the large bruise on his jaw. Madam Pomfrey had his bones fixed in a trice; but she decided that he could stay for a few days and heal from the more minor injuries. I swear I heard her mutter something like, "At least then I'll know you aren't getting yourself into _more_ trouble," before she left the room.

"James!" I yelled, earning a glare from Madam Pomfrey. I lowered my voice, but my tone was still reproving. "Pay attention, will you?"

Apparently, this was funny to my idiotic best friend. He chortled, grinning wider than ever. "You're… You're telling _me_… Me! Me, to pay…" James sputtered in between laughs. His body shook, he was laughing so hard, and he winced slightly, the movement probably hurting his cuts and things.

"Now listen here, you bloody moron," I ordered, leaving no room for argument. "You will stop laughing and focus all your energy on healing and getting your sodding homework done, because I'll be in class, so I can't do it for you this time."

James rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Jen, what are you? One of those Muggle sergeants?"

"Maybe I am!" I said heatedly, smirking. "Hut, two, get going on it, then!"

Soldier James saluted me mockingly, his brown eyes sparkling with clear mischief. "Yes, Ma'am!" He lay back on the pillows, closing his eyes.

"What in the name of Gryffindor do you think you're doing? You've got homework to do," I chastise, frowning.

James peeked one of his eyes open, and grinned. "Well, I mean, since it really is _your_ fault that I'm holed up here, I figured the least you could do is read me the homework, while I dictate you the answers. Honestly, it probably wouldn't be good for my hand to be writing so much. A broken wrist could cause serious complications, later in life, you know."

I glared at him menacingly. That little prat hasn't cared about an injury since… since ever! And that broken wrist was on his left hand, not his wand arm; besides, Madam Pomfrey fixed him right up. Is he going to tell me that Pomfrey's losing her touch? I don't think so. Madam Pomfrey has been fixing James's various Quidditch (among other things) related injuries since we were squeaky little first years.

James rolled his eyes, still grinning at me. "Oh, just do it, will you? It'll save me from having my brain explode. Then who would you hex every time Al slithered away like the little Slytherin he is." He laughed, liking his little joke. Al was a snake, and James was an almighty lion. Or so the dunderheads liked to think. I think they're both complete idiots. Sure, Al was smart sometimes, and James could pull a prank so quietly that you'd never know it was him, I mean, unless you didn't know him, so they did at least have _something_ to be proud of. But not much. I swear the boys would drive me to an early grave.

"Will not," James smirked, grabbing a book off of his nightstand. I scowled at him, snatching the book away and scanning the title. _Practical Defense against Nature's Cruelest_. The cover picture was a dragon, spitting fire. I looked at James skeptically.

"Birthday present from Charlie?" Charlie Weasley was James's uncle who lived in Romania, taming wild dragons. Not that they can be tamed; Charlie just loved the beasts.

"Nah," James said, shrugging. He reached for his book back, holding it to his chest. "I mail-ordered it from Diagon Alley. I figured that since I wanted to write a nature column for the Prophet, I might as well learn how to deal with anything freaky." He grinned, his expression cocky, but not quite enough for him to disguise to sheepish look he got whenever he talked about his dream of being a reporter. Like his mother, James had a skill for writing, though Ginny Potter mainly stuck with the Quidditch correspondent column, James had always had a fascination with the Forbidden Forest, and, well, any other forest for that matter. He loved writing about his adventures, and the stories weren't half-bad, either. I'd read some of them, and they were really quite good. But when you're a star Quidditch player, you're expected to go pro, you're absolutely shit in school, and all of your cousins make fun of you for being a legit dunderhead? It probably wasn't so easy to tell everyone about.

"So, about that. Have you told anyone yet?"

"Just Mum. You know her, she thought it was brilliant, but then she told Dad, and he kind of wanted me to play professional Quidditch, you know? He always wanted to, Mum did and had the time of her life, before we lot came along anyway, and he says he wants me to have that experience. Plus, Quidditch pays a bit and the Prophet's not exactly a top-notch job for most." James shrugged, picking absently at a loose string in the bed sheet, something he did when he was concentrating. His eyebrows mashed together, and his brown eyes were thoughtful. "I think maybe I could do both. Just write a sample for the Prophet, maybe under a different name, then, if they like it, I could do one column every week, at least until Quidditch season is out."

"Why under a different name?" It would be really cool to read something and then under it, have '_By J.S. Potter._' With his picture underneath.

James squirmed uncomfortably. "You know how much attention Albus gets just because he's dad's son, right? Well, what if they printed my articles just because I'm my dad's kid? Then I won't know if they're really good or not. Besides, I don't want anyone else to find out just yet." His eyes lit up, and he grinned. "Wanna hear my alias?"

I laughed. "Ooh, James Potter knows what an alias is? Big words, buddy. Sure, sure." Knowing James, it would be something completely ridiculous or something perverted. Or both. I mean, this _is_ James we're talking about here.

"John Doe." He smiled proudly.

I shook my head, sighing. "This, coming from one of the greatest pranking legends of our day? With all that creativity running through the six-times-too-big head of yours, you pick John Doe? That's a Muggle name they use when they can't find anything else. Surely you can do better." _Of course he can_, I raged_, he's James bloody Potter! He and Freddie Weasley are some of the most creative people I've ever met. John Doe? I doe'n't think so! _I giggled. _Did I just make a joke? I think I did!_

James looked at me funny, then grinned hesitantly. "I was just joking, Jenna. I'm going to be Romulus Finn. After Dad and Grandpa's old friend, Teddy's father, Remus. You know that myth about the wolf-children, Romulus and Remus? Plus, it's the name that Mr. Lupin used on Potterwatch; I know, Dad told me." He smiled smugly.

"Where in the heck did Finn come from, then?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

He grinned sheepishly. "Well, I happened to be sitting next to Hollis Finnegan at the time. Finn, Finnegan… It all works out."

"You are an idiot," I declared, grinning at my best friend.

James rolled his eyes, a cocky smirk on his lips. "You love it," he taunted, reaching over to ruffle my hair.

"Get your filthy paws out of my hair, dumbass! And scoot, I'm tired and these chairs are really uncomfortable," I ordered, bumping his hip with mine gently so I could lie down next to him on the cot. He acquiesced, grumbling good-naturedly.

"One of these days, McIntire, I'm going to get sick of you," James murmured, a yawn escaping as he reached to put an arm around me. I thought about putting up a fight, but was too tired, so instead opted to snuggle into his side and rest my eyes.

"You'd never," I mumbled against the cotton of his t-shirt, and my last coherent thought before drifting off was how nice it felt to be in someone's arms again.

Ω

"Jeremiah Cooley, I'm going to beat you bloody if you dare tell me that you've gotten yourself detention," I yelled, scowling at the puny third year standing before me. Tiny he may be, but J-Cool was one of the best Beaters I'd found in my two years of Captaincy. We really needed the team to be top notch this year, now more than ever, because this would be my last year to cream the Slytherin team for the Cup. And with that bloody bastard genius brother of mine, they had an advantage that I didn't like.

Jeremiah sputtered, and I sighed, raking a hand through my hair. "Get out of my sight, shrimp," I muttered, scowling. How in the hell were we supposed to win the Cup without our star Beater? Not that I could tell Jeremiah that, of course; it would inflate his head.

"Not as much as yours," said Jen smoothly, sliding into her seat at the Gryffindor table and biting into a slice of buttered toast. _Fuck, I must have said that out loud. _I scowled at her, and she smirked.

"Why do you always show up at the worst times? Seriously, you're like the plague," I muttered, taking a seat beside her and taking the toast out of her hands.

Jenna scowled. "Really, with the toast? Why can't you just take a new piece? The platter is _right in front of you_!" She indicated to a large plate of buttered toast, and I laughed.

"Cause it's more fun to watch you freak out when I take yours." I smirked, and she huffed, grabbing another piece. "So, seriously, you think my head's inflated?"

Jenna shook her head, smiling sweetly. "'Course not, Jamie," she simpered, which should have alerted me immediately to the upcoming betrayal, along with the use of my detested nickname. "I think that it's _over_inflated, by your own overlarge ego." She batted her eyelashes at me, and I scowled.

"Git," I muttered, shaking my head. "Now, we need to prepare for Quidditch trials. I need a new Chaser desperately, and he needs to be _good_."

Jen raised an eyebrow. "I thought that to make the team you had to be good?"

Rolling my eyes, I said scathingly, "Well of course, but he has to be _really_ good. I _have_ to beat Al, this year especially. This is our last year, Jen, and I'm not leaving without the Cup."

I thought she would roll her eyes, but instead my best friend looked thoughtfully down the table, her head in her hands. Her brows creased like they always did when she was thinking hard about something, and I bit back my questions so she could think in peace. Nothing would get done if I didn't leave her alone; I'd proved that time and time again in detention, when I didn't listen to Jenna and forged ahead with my own ill-thought out plan.

"What about Lily?" Jenna said after a while, smiling confidently.

I frowned, confused. "Lily who?" There aren't any Lilys in Gryffindor, I thought, lost, until I finally realized… "NO!" I roared, scowling at my best friend. The whole of the Great Hall quieted and looked at me, most with the same 'has-he-finally-lost-his-mind?' look, but I didn't care. _Lily cannot and will not play Quidditch_, I thought intensely, _it's much too dangerous._

"Who said that your Chaser had to be a 'he'?" Jenna asked, smirking. "I've seen Lily play, and she's good. She may just be a fourth year, but she's brilliant; almost as good as your mum, and she played professionally!"

"Mum's different; this is my baby sister we're talking about! It's much too dangerous for her," I growled. "Mum's… Well, Mum is _scary_. Lily's just a baby. She's only fourteen."

Jen merely smiled, amused, and said, "Well, then it looks like you're going to be here awhile then, because I don't think there's any way that you can beat your brother this season without your _baby_ sister." She glanced at me and smirked. "Better apply for the caretaker's position, or else the teachers are sure to throw you out. They've been waiting to get rid of you since first year." Nathaniel Thomas cracked a grin and Sammy and Emilie Juarez laughed out loud.

Sammy poked me in the side, her grin wide, showing off her pearly white teeth. "She's right, Jaime," she purred, giggling. I only allowed her use of my nickname because of her accent; she pronounced it 'High-may.'

Emilie giggled at the flirtation, shooting Jen a shy smile. "¡_Ellas son muy loco_!" Emilie only spoke Spanish, which always confused me. I wondered why they let her into Hogwarts, an English school, but then I realized that separating her from her twin sister would probably do more damage than it would good.

Sammy laughed. "We are not crazy!"

I looked at Jenna and she shrugged, grinning. _Who knows_, she mouthed, holding back a laugh. I laughed, standing up, looking at Jen pointedly. "Want to go down to the pitch?"

Jen's lips twitched up. "Do you really think that's wise? Didn't you just get out of the Hospital Wing for an accident down at the pitch?"

"Yeah, but that's not because of me. Didn't some crazy chick hex me on my broom?" I raised an eyebrow, smirking as she blushed.

"Not my fault," Jen muttered, her eyes immediately going to the Slytherin table, locating my brother and sticking her tongue out.

"Child," I teased, but I had to laugh; I wanted to do the same thing. Al's an idiot; he's my brother and I love him, but the kid is a Slytherin. He was my mortal enemy; well, at school, anyway. When we were at home or Nan and Granddad's, we would usually team up against our insane cousins; Freddie and Roxy were the main ones we had to worry about, but sometimes Vic, Dominique, and Lou paired up with Molls and Luce, and _that's _when the real trouble began.

_Speak of the Devil and the Devil shall appear_, I thought grimly as I saw my red-haired cousin pop out of nowhere and grin at me like the demon that she is. "What do you want, Molly?"

Molly laughed. "When's practice starting up, Cap?" Did I forget to mention that Molly was our other Beater? A damned bloody good one, too, when she wasn't being an idiot.

I rolled my eyes. "We haven't even set trials yet. We can't have practice until we get a decent Chaser out of his years' brood."

Molly rolled her eyes. "Easy." She turned, shouting, "Oi! Potter!" She made a face when she saw Albus turn from the Slytherin table and added, "Not you, Snake-boy; you, yeah, you!" She said, nodding her head approvingly at my baby sister. "Get your, um… just get over here, Lil."

Lily nodded, a little confused, and walked over to Molly, and Molly grinned, satisfied. "See? I solved your Chaser woes. Now can we have practice or what? You can't get out of setting the practice; this is our last year, James. We're going to beat that little toe-rag of a brother of yours." She grimaced, waving at Albus prettily. "Sorry, Al!"

"Miss Weasley, will you _please_ refrain from shouting across the Great Hall?" asked Professor McGonagall, exasperated. At Molly's happy nod, she sighed. "And please, dear, do try to stay out of my office this year. Merlin knows your father doesn't need another shock, what with his health." And the professor walked away, smiling to herself.

I had to grin, if only because McGonagall knew exactly how to make Molly be cautious: mention Uncle Percy's iffy health. Despite her being the black sheep (Lucy was her father in female form), Molly loved her father dearly, and McGonagall knew it. Molly scowled. "How does she do that?" She grumbled.

"Sneak up on you like that?" Jen asked, grinning. "Rumor has it that she's an Animagus. Supposed to be a tabby cat, I hear."

"Go try someone else, Jenna. No one's daft enough to believe _that_ old story." And with that, Molly got up from the table, leaving me with Jen and my sister.

Lily, noticing an opportunity, turned to me and smiled sweetly. "Am I really your new Chaser, James?" She asked, her blue eyes alight with excitement. I scowled, crossing my arms. How could I tell her no?

_Like this_, I thought meanly. "Of course not. You won't be trying out for Chaser; it's too dangerous. Now, go play Exploding Snap with Hugo or something; Jen and I have homework to do."

Jen gave me a look of pity, and I knew what was going to happen before the words were out of my sister's mouth. I was on the ground, unable to move a muscle because of Lily's perfect '_Petrificus Totalus_', and all of Gryffindor, not to mention Albus and Scorpius at the Slytherin table and Roxy, Louis, the Scamander twins, and Domi at the Ravenclaw table, too. Jenna stood right over me, her face red from laughing. "I told you, James." She grinned teasingly before pulling out her wand, tapping it on her palm. "So, do I say the counter-curse? Or just let you stay a glorified mummy…"

Lily smirked, letting her face come into my line of vision. "Am I too much of a little kid, now, Jamie?" She asked mockingly, before she pointed her wand straight at my face, muttering the counter curse and storming away.

"You really pissed her off, mate," chimed in Freddie, who smirked. "Nice work, there, bud, getting hexed by your little sister."

"Like you could take on Roxy," I said acidly, scowling at my favorite cousin. I took his outstretched hand, looking to my best friend next. "And you! You let her do this to me!"

Jen smirked, crossing her arms. "You kind of insulted her, James. Besides, you kind of deserved it. I would have done the same thing." She flipped her hair, and I glared.

"Let's just go down to the pitch, yeah?" I asked grumpily, and Jen just chuckled.

Freddie grinned. "Yeah!" He yelled, holding out his hand for a high-five. I slapped his palm with my own and laughed happily.

"We're gonna beat the Slytherins, we're gonna beat the Slytherins!" Fred and I started singing, locking arms and skipping.

Jenna looked at us skeptically. "Please explain to me why I hang out with you two mongrels again," she said in a measured tone, clicking her tongue. "You guys are about four years old. Put together."

"Untrue!" Fred shouted. "I've just had my seventeenth birthday, see?" He thrust out his wand arm, proudly showing off a battered silver watch on his arm, one that I knew had once belonged to his departed namesake.

Jen refrained from answering, and I had to grin. I also noticed some of the professors watching us. Most of them looked exasperated, some look hopeless, but Nev-_ ahem_… _Professor_ Longbottom just looked amused, a twinkle in his eyes.

Jenna sighed, taking both of our hands. "Come on, guys, let's go down to the pitch before one of the teachers decides to give us detention."

"For what?" I asked belligerently, swaggering at her side.

"I dunno," Jen said, shrugging. The corners of her lips twitched and she added, "Excessive loitering."

"It's the Great Hall! There's no _loitering_ in the Great Hall!" Fred exploded as we reached the doors. Suddenly, he stopped, looking lost. "Wait… Guys? How are we going to fly? Our brooms are in our dormitories."

Jen looked at us and pulled out her wand. "_Accio Fred and James's brooms_!" We could hear them zooming from our dormitory, and she smirked. "Are you guys wizards, or what?"

Ω

"I told you this wasn't a good idea," Jenna said sourly, scowling at me.

"Come on, Jen," I pleaded, rolling my eyes. "It's just a broken arm. Freddie's had worse. Besides, it's not even _from_ flying; it's from that Bludger."

"That _Bludger_? That Bludger nearly killed him!" Jen screeched, and I sighed. It was just a Bludger that Molls released too soon. For some reason, it went straight for Fred. Jenna freaked out, _as usual_. She just didn't get Quidditch injuries. She was just too touchy… and when she got mad, she was almost as scary as my mum.

"Calm down, Jenna." On the bed, Fred winced. Oh, bollocks. Even _he_, my simple-minded (well, more so than me) cousin, knew that I'd just made a crucial mistake. Telling Jen to calm down was like telling my mum that I made Al disappear, when I was eight. Or, like telling her that despite that I had gotten straight O's on my OWLs, I still had deplorable grades. Or when she found out that I strung Al and Scorpius up on the Quidditch goalposts when they were first years. Or how she acted when I… Hm. Why did all of my memories of Mum being angry have to do with something _I'd _done?

"… can't believe that you… James? James! JAMES! _Are you even listening to me_?" Jenna shrieked, while Fred sniggered. She whipped around, pointing her deadly 'finger' at him. "Don't you snicker like this is funny! You could have been seriously hurt!"

Fred held back a grin. "But, Jen, I wasn't. I'm fixed up, quite easily," he reminded her, quite sensibly, and I had to admit, I was shocked. Freddie, being sensible?

"Hmph," Jen huffed, scowling and crossing her arms. She sat on the nearest bed that wasn't occupied by Fred, and looked at both of us crossly. She growled something that sounded very much like, '_Boys and Quidditch_.'

Oh, shite. Just kill me now, Merlin. The girl has gone mad. She's insulted Quidditch.

"You'll be fine, Mr. Weasley," said Terry Boot, the friendly young Healer had been interning under Poppy Pomfrey for six years. It had been odd having Madam Pomfrey tend to my injuries on my previous stay, because Boot had practically taken over in the last few years. Coincidentally, Boot took over around the same time I had played a somewhat cruel joke by faking my own death in front of the healer. Coincidences, huh?

"Thanks, mate," I said politely, grinning in spite of myself. "We'll be off, then."

A smirk crossed Boot's lips for a moment before being smothered by a more teacher-ish, stern look. He didn't quite pull it off, but I didn't tell him that. "Well, I expect you'll be back in by the time the week's out, but it's nice to be appreciated. Now, do try and stay out of trouble." Now, even Boot had to stifle a derisive snort; telling me and Fred to stay out of trouble was like telling Rose not to read, or McGonagall not to be stern, or… or telling a dragon not to breathe fire! Trouble is what we _do_. "At least try to stay out of here for a few days, at least."

"Will do," Freddie said happily, giving me a meaningful look. We each took one of Jen's arms, pulling her out of the Hospital Wing. "Merlin, that place gives me the willies," Fred said, shuddering slightly. "I hate hospitals."

"Can't see why, you spend enough time in them," Jenna said grumpily, yanking her arms away from the both of us and walking ahead.

"You're still mad?" I asked in disbelief, frowning.

Jen sighed, stopping. We hurried to catch up with her, and she scowled at the both of us for a minute before her features relaxed. "No," she admitted in a small voice, looking down at her toes. Not that I could see what was so interesting about them; other than she'd painted them with a charmed electric blue polish that was a different color to everyone who looked at it, based on their emotion. Hm. Wonder what color they were to Jen.

"Then what's with you? Seemed like you were going to tell us to sod off for a minute there," Fred asked, frowning in confusion. His brows knitted together, and he stared at Jen, thinking hard. "I was worried about you guys!" Jen exploded, scowling as if caring about us was the last thing she wanted to do. "You guys are always in the hospital wing, I swear, it's like your second home." "No, that's Hogwarts," I supplied, chancing a grin.

"The hospital wing is our _third_ home, Jen, you miscounted," Fred finished, grinning.

"Either way," Jen fumed, "you're both idiots." But she didn't have the heart to be mean to us, and she grinned, taking our arms again. "Come on, you. I'll race to you to the common room!"

Fred and I looked at each other and smirked. "YOU'RE ON!"


	2. Playing The Game

_Finally!_ James had scheduled Quidditch trials. I glanced around the common room for any sign of James or Freddie, or even _Al_, (who was allowed to hang out in the Gryffindor common room when there wasn't a Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match on), but they didn't seem to any Potters, nor Weasleys, there. Which was odd, really, because they were _everywhere_. Except Hufflepuff; they hadn't taken over that House. Yet, anyway.

I grinned to myself, slipping out of the portrait hole, lugging my rucksack along with me. It was a short journey up to the Owlery, and I was glad that nobody I knew had seen me. James was going to _kill_ me for what I was about to do.

I held out my arm, and a beautiful barn owl perched on it. I stroked his feathers, smiling. "Hey, Apollo. I've got a letter for you to deliver." Apollo nipped my fingers affectionately, his big eyes staring up at me trustingly. I grinned, carefully slipping off my rucksack and digging for the letter I'd already prepared. Apollo held out his leg patiently, and I tied it on. "This is for Ginny Potter, okay? In Godric's Hollow."

Apollo clicked his beak, which I _think _is a good sign, and he flew out of the Owlery window. I grinned nervously; James was going to _kill_ me when he found out that I wrote to his mother on Lily's behalf. But this is _my_ last year, too, and I am not going to let Gryffindor lose to Al and that Malfoy git anymore, and Lily is our best chance. I may not be too good on a broom, but I do know my Quidditch. I have to, being best mates with James Potter. I've been to more professional Quidditch matches (along with all of the Hogwarts ones; James was convinced that the ones that he played in were practically professional) than the normal human being should be forced to watch. Lily Potter has definitely inherited her mother and father's skills on a broom, and if James would quit being a stupid older brother (I know all about those; I have _four_) then he would see it, too.

I watched Apollo fly off until I couldn't see him anymore, and I picked up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and smiling at the school owls before leaving the Owlery. I loved owls, but there were too many mice and rats in there. I hurried down the stairs, and my trainer slipped on one of the wet steps, and I screamed, knowing I was about to fall down the whole staircase.

Until I fell into something hard and sturdy. Arms encircled my waist, and warm breath hit my neck. I heard a chuckle, and I scrambled to my own feet, looking at my savior/captor.

"Hey, Jenna," said Gabriel Vega, his lips twitching. He smiled breathtakingly. "Have a nice fall?" He joked, his chocolate-y eyes twinkling.

"Not exactly," I muttered, trying to scowl but failing. Gabriel Vega, a seventh year Ravenclaw, was one of the hottest and most charming guys in all of Hogwarts. It was almost impossible to be anything but happy when he was near you. So far, I had managed to elude that particular experience. Until today. Until today, I had thought all of those girls idiotic and stupid; no guy could elicit those feelings just by _being_ there. But I was wrong. "Um, thanks for not letting me die, Vega."

"It's Gabe," Gabriel corrected, smiling. "And no problem. Have a nice day, Jenna." He made sure I was steady on my feet, and started up the stairs toward the Owlery. I was dumbstruck. Glancing over his shoulder, Gabriel called teasingly, "Watch out for that step. I won't be there to save you this time." Despite the teasing tone, his warning felt sincere, and I blushed with gratitude and embarrassment. Carefully avoiding the wet step, I walked on eggshells until I reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Password?" She said, bored, looking me over without any real interest.

"Dumbledore's Army," I said in an equally bored voice. The Fat Lady and I did not have good relationship. Since third year, she ignored me, and I ignored her, unless I needed to get through the portrait hole.

"Jen! Where the ruddy hell have you been?" yelled Albus Potter, grinning like a madman. "Me and Scorp have been waiting for you." He perched himself on the arm of the chair that Malfoy sat in, still grinning at me. None of the Gryffindors seemed to think anything was wrong with having two Slytherins in our common room, so I followed suit, not making any comment about Malfoy's presence.

"What do you want with me, Al?" I said warily, frowning. Albus was an evil mastermind, which _I_ think is what got him into Slytherin in the first place (_why couldn't he have just gotten into bloody Ravenclaw?_), but I digress. Anyway, he's always got plans and plots, and he tried to use us as cronies. Bit like Draco Malfoy with his two idiots, Crabbe and Goyle back in Harry Potter's day. But Al doesn't have any nitwits to use as lab rats, because unfortunately, Malfoy's a bit too smart to get in too deep in Al's plans. Not that he isn't brilliant; it's just sometimes things tend to… well, _explode_.

Al Potter + potions ingredients – professorial supervision x the Marauder's Map = disaster.

"Nothing, nothing," Al said jovially; a little _too_ jovially. "Just wanted to see one of my mates."

"Whatever your scam is this week, Potter, I want none of it," I said, with a reluctant smirk. "Last time I got involved, I had to get half of my hair regrown and my skin was gold for a week."

"You looked wonderfully!" Al exclaimed.

"I looked like a bloody sarcophagus!"

"No yelling in the common room!" Rose Weasley interjected, hands on her hips, looking freakishly like her grandmother, Molly. She looked at us and scowled. "How come whenever there's a fracas, it's always you guys?"

"Hey!" Al yelled, frowning. At Rose's murderous glare, he lowered his voice. "It's not always me! Blame James, Freddie, and Jen; I'm hardly ever here! I'm a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake!"

"And we all know what a bloody shame that is," James said jokingly, grinning at his younger brother, cousin, Malfoy, and me. His hair looked extra-ruffled, and I'd guessed he'd just gotten done flying. "What's going on?" He ruffled Rose's bushy red hair, grinning at her scowl and ducking her flying fist. "Uh, uh, uh! _No violence in the common room_, didn't she tell us that once, Jen?"

I grinned. "Yes, she did." James smirked at Rose, who grumbled under her breath. I laughed; I loved Rose to death, but she was a stickler for the rules and it got old fast.

"So what are we all doing here? Partying without James?" James's eyes lit up and he grinned. "Planning my surprise party?"

I rolled my eyes, ruffling his already mussed hair. "Deflate your ego, bud. Al was trying to trick me into doing one of experiments again. Besides, you know nobody can plan a party as well as you and Fred. Plus, even if we tried, we couldn't keep a secret from you." James grinned proudly, and I added with a smirk, "Because you're too bloody annoying."

James scowled at me, flicking my nose lightly, and Al, the Malfoy git, and Rose laughed. "I'm not annoying," James said stubbornly, but quickly he grinned, relenting. "Okay, maybe I am. But so what? You lot love it."

"No, we love _you_," Rose corrected, trying not to grin. "I'm pretty sure we could all go without all of your 'I'm-James-Potter-and-I'm-bloody-amazing' annoyingness."

"I second that," Al put in quickly, grinning at his older brother.

Scorpius followed suit. "Couldn't agree more, Albus."

Just because git-face agreed, I took James's hand, smirking. "I like his annoyingness."

"No you don't," Rose said with a knowing smirk. "You just won't agree with Malfoy."

"I have a first name, you know," Git-face interrupted rudely.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Rose and I said simultaneously, then looked at each other and grinned. We high-fived and Malfoy jumped out of his chair, stalking off to the other side of the common room. Al frowned at us.

"You two could be a little nicer, you know," he chastised softly, looking at his friend with something like compassion. I sighed, and Rose looked a little guilty, too. Albus's expression turned righteous, and he smirked at us. "Now apologize to _Scorpius_, won't you, guys?"

Rose and I sighed. "Oi, Mal- I mean, Scorpius!" Rose called. "Come back over here, will you?" At Scorpius's scowl, she added exasperatedly, "Please?" After a few minutes, he acquiesced and sat back down in the chair by Albus, looking up at us expectantly.

"We're sorry, Scorpius," I muttered.

"We'll be nicer from now on," Rose said, and I knew it was mostly for Albus's sake. For some odd reason, Malfoy was Al's best friend, and Rose loved Al, so I knew she meant what she said. But me… Oh, what the heck. I'd try, too, if Rose was going to do it. _Follow the crowd, Jenna, good going_.

"Merlin, are you two gay or something?" James exclaimed, big brown eyes wide. Rose and I looked at him sharply, and he realized his mistake. "Not that I have anything wrong with that," he added quickly.

Al rolled his eyes. Obviously, he expected this sort of thing from his sort-of a Neanderthal brother. "Shut up, you," he said gruffly, but his gaze on his brother was affectionate, as if he'd missed James's thoughtless remarks. I then realized that, really, they didn't get to be just brothers much at Hogwarts. James was one of the figureheads for Gryffindor, emblazoning what it meant to be one of us, and Albus was a Slytherin. Suddenly, I had an epiphany. Maybe _that's_ why Albus was so peculiar about how we treated Malfoy. He knew what it was like to be the hated one. _Well, a Potter in Slytherin, with all of the old Death Eaters' kids in there, what would you expect? His dad put theirs in Azkaban_. I felt a surge of big-sisterish affection for Al, feeling an urge to ruffle his locks and kiss his cheek fondly, but I held it in. Al would be seething, and James would wonder (aloud, no doubt) who had put me under the Imperius Curse.

I settled for a happy grin and a friendly one-armed squeeze. Al looked at me oddly, but shrugged. "So, other than the fact that Jen's obviously gone crazy," James started, giving me a weird look, "what else is new here?"

"Fundraiser for the Guatemalan Witches' Association for Orphans," Rose said, thrusting forward a crumpled piece of parchment that someone had probably pulled off of the notice board and had tossed on the floor. Of course, Rose would be the one who would pick it up and read it. Reading and cleaning, some of Rose's favorite things. Al snatched it, smoothing it out and reading through it with mild interest.

"It's mostly for babies and children not yet old enough for schooling- well, not magical schooling, anyway," Al amended, pursing his lips slightly. "I think I'll send this to Dad; he's always looking for charities to give to."

"Dad's always on about how he doesn't want anyone to have his childhood," James murmured to me, shrugging and rolling his eyes. "He gives to almost everything; he's the person who made it possible for the Wolfsbane potion to be distributed to all werewolves, free of charge. He does it anonymously." That made sense. Harry Potter was one of the richest people in Britain, but nobody knew how he spent his money. He was known as a money grubber in gossip magazines, because, besides presents for his wife, children, relatives, etc. and home expenses, there was no trace of money spending from him. Anonymity seemed to suit Harry Potter fine; he was one of the most modest rich people I'd ever met. Not that I'd met many rich people, mind you.

"Well that's boring," Scorpius said mildly, trying out his newfound acceptance into the group. Besides the scathing look James gave him (What can I say; _James _didn't promise to be nice to him), everyone looked at him expectantly. He grinned, two unexpected dimples flashing in his cheeks. "I think we should have a proper sendoff for the end of the first month of school."

Scorpius smirked, which Albus returned almost immediately. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" At Scorpius's curt nod, they high-fived, whooping. "Who's up for a party?"

I surveyed the Room of Requirement, grinning. "The little whelps did alright for short notice," James said approvingly, grinning at the room full of people and the fully stocked bar (Al, Scorpius, and Rose, [who, despite her rule-obeying ways, was surprisingly good at filching alcohol from Hogsmeade- leaving proper payment, of course-] had taken a trip down the one-eyed witch's hump for a liquor run), along with a good supply of food from the kitchens. Those little elves were surprisingly helpful when asked; they'd offered to bring us a roast, if we'd wait a few minutes.

"Hey, there's Morgan!" James shouted, the only way to be heard over the music blaring from Andie Thomas's Wireless, pointing to a tall blonde girl who was flirting with Darrin Biggs near the end of the drinks table. "I'm going to go see if she'd like to dance."

"You realize she's with Biggs, right?"

James smirked. "Not for long, Jen. How you underestimate me." He sauntered off, and I almost laughed out loud when he walked up to the pair and began talking, slowly pushing Darrin out of the way. Ten minutes later, Darrin was alone, looking confused as James led Morgan Goode onto the dance floor. James had made a new record.

"I didn't realize you attended these kinds of parties," said a familiar voice, and I whipped around, surprised to see Gabriel Vega standing there, holding a plastic cup in his hand, smiling amusedly.

"All the time," I said smoothly, grinning in spite of myself. "My best mates are the ones who usually plan them all. I'm usually out there somewhere, dancing." I nodded to the packed dance floor, where James and his stolen date had been swallowed.

"Like to dance, do you?" Gabe questioned, his tone sincere. He took a sip from his cup and wrinkled his nose, making a face. "God-awful, this stuff. Do you know who made it? The punch, I mean- the Firewhiskey is excellent. This on the other hand…" He shrugged, using his wand to Vanish the offending drink and refilling his cup with the aforementioned Firewhiskey.

"A bit, yeah," I admitted, feeling a little awkward after the glow of talking to _Gabriel Vega_ had worn off. I wonder if this was what people felt like talking to Al, James, and Lily. I took a drink of my punch and choked it down, making a face; Gabe was right; this stuff was awful.

Gabriel took the drink out of my hand smoothly, tossing his now-empty cup into a waste bin with mine. "Want to have a go then?"

"At what?" I said, distracted, glancing around for James.

"Dancing?" Gabriel laughed, holding out his hand, using his other one to muss his hair cutely. I looked from his hand to his face, my brows pulling together for a moment before I grinned.

"Sure, why not," I exclaimed, grabbing a half-full bottle of Firewhiskey and downing a quarter of it. It burned, but it was a good, familiar burn. I took Gabe's hand and started to pull him onto the dance floor, my body already moving to the beat of the song. Time to start enjoying the party!

_Albus's POV_

"Successful night, I'd say," I said mildly, glancing at Scorpius's blond head behind me. I heard him chuckle, and I imagined him rolling his eyes.

"Of course it is," he said dismissively, smirking. "Party planning; it's child's play. Who can resist a good party on a Friday night with free food and plenty of drinks? Even if it's short notice, it's just the building blocks of our operation."

Now, hold up- despite what everyone thinks, Scorpius is the real mastermind of our whole friendship. I'm just more confident around other people; Scorp chokes up because of everything his family has done to society in general. Me, I'm just the kid who was getting beaten to a pulp in the Slytherin common room on my first night as a first year- that is, until Scorpius stepped in. Despite him only being a first year, too, he still had enough pull with the family name Malfoy to get them to quit. Though that protection has only lasted me when he is around, so I escape to the Gryffindor common room as often as not, though I don't tell _them_ why I do it. My brother would go insane. He would kick ass first, ask questions later. It's not that I don't trust him- it's just the way that he's wired. He wouldn't understand that beating the shit out of all the Slytherins that torment me would only make it worse. Even Scorpius's influence is limited, _especially_ if it's two Potters that they're dealing with.

Oh, Salazar. What was I saying? Oh, yes. Scorpius. Right. Well, Scorpius had great aspirations, and he knew I could help him reach them. He saved me for that reason, mostly for the Potter name's influence in the magical world, but since then, we've become friends. He wants to strike it rich and bring respect and influence back to the Malfoy name – not to just the sons and grandsons of Death Eaters, but to the whole magical community in general, and even some Muggles, if it helps his ideals. Scorpius isn't picky about the whole blood status thing, he's just very cunning. Besides that, he's a Gryffindor, all the way. Sometimes I think the hat mis-Sorted him…

"Oi! Potter!" Maggie Thomas shouted, grinning like a she-devil. She nodded to Scorpius, and her grin was still wide. That's what I loved about Maggie; she didn't give a damn. "Malfoy! How's it hanging?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes, grinning. "Very well, Mags. How've you been?"

Maggie stuck out her tongue, wrinkling her nose. "Enough with the formalities. We aren't adults, and this isn't one of those fancy soirees your parents dragged you to when you were a kid. I am sixteen years old, and I'm half-baked. Talk to me like a person, Malfoy, and not a businessman." She grinned, slinging an arm around his shoulders and landing a smacking kiss to his cheek. "Take that to the grave, Scorp, baby." She cackled madly, releasing a dazed Scorpius and grabbing my hand. "Come on, Al – we're going to dance!" Another thing I liked about Mags; she didn't give choices, nor did she think about anything that she did. She just did it.

"Righto, Mags," I replied, though I don't think she heard me- she was too busy pushing through the crowd of people on the dance floor, pulling me along with her the whole way. Once we reached the middle (it seemed like the middle; we were squashed from every angle, so that's what I assume), she wrapped her arms around my neck and started dancing, her short black dress riding up her thighs with all of the movement. I couldn't help but glance down, and Mags saw it. She smirked, dancing in the most provocative way she could think of, and I pulled her closer. There was only one girl for me, and that was Margaret Grainne Thomas. She knew it, and she used it, but there was no hope for me; I'd already fallen. The only bad thing: Mags didn't love anyone, and she used me for her own purposes, 'repaying' me with some of the most incredible sex I've ever had. _Hi, I'm Albus Potter, and my best friend _and_ the only girl I'll ever love both use me just to suit their own purposes, but I love them both anyway. Did I mention I'm also a sucker? _Well, Mum and Dad ought to be happy; James and Lily turned out alright. Two out of three isn't bad, not bad at all.

Ω

_Freddie's POV_

"Hey, Potter," Kylie Pickett called invitingly, unbelievably bold compared to her friends, who were huddled beside her, pointing and giggling. "Looking good."

"Back at ya," James replied smoothly, a confident smirk on his lips, as always. Kylie merged back into her little group, and they departed, a giggly mass walking in unison down the Charms corridor.

"Man-whore," I taunted, with a conspiratorial wink.

"And proud to be," James shot back, grinning. "Besides, as if you have room to talk. Don't think I didn't see you with Hannah at the party… _and _Jess,_ and_ Lila." He scoffed, ticking off the girls I had flirted (and made out) with on his hand. "Need I go on?"

"Oh, shove off, _little_ cousin," I grumbled, shoving him a bit for good measure. He laughed crazily, mussing his hair, and ducking out of my way for good measure. _Damn it, James_, I thought, amused. He's always been crazy, but ever since he's discovered girls, he's gotten worse.

"You know you can't beat me, Freddie," he shot back, with a grin that was so James. His brown eyes were bright with mischief, not unlike my own. "But you know what they say?" he breathed, daring to get within punching distance.

I could have broken his glasses, just to have a little fun, but I didn't. James was right; no matter how hard I tried, he was always one step ahead of me. I wanted to know what he was going to say too badly to fuck with him. "What do they say, James?" I asked, feigning indifference.

"If you can't beat'em, join'em!" James's crazy grin lit up his face. "I've got this idea…" He continued to give me a detailed plan on how to sneak into Quoin's office and mess with the Swelling Solution that Vinnie Goyle had left to brew in our last class. "… I mean, we aren't going to change it _too_ much," James was saying, "just switch a few things around until it explodes. Goyle will get bad marks for brewing a bogus potion, he'll get swollen and have to stay in the Hospital Wing for the rest of the class, (which is a present, honestly, if you think about it- getting out of Potions to hang out with Boot?) and we get the enjoyment." He smirked, satisfied.

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. Although Potions was the one subject that James was absolutely brilliant at (it was scary, really; you couldn't trust any drink he gave you for fear of some potion might be slipped into it), blowing things up were more of Albus's area of expertise. _Although Al is always trying to _make_ something_, the little voice in the back of my head nagged, _James just wants to blow up something of Goyle's. Which, of course, is perfectly acceptable. _I sighed, throwing up my arms. "Fine, we'll do it. But let me tell you this right now- if this is anything other than a prank on Goyle, - more specifically, if you get me sucked into one of Albus and Malfoy's schemes- I'll… I'll…" James smirked, knowing that I couldn't beat him up physically, (_I just couldn't freaking _catch_ him!_) and I narrowed my eyes. "I'll tell your mum that it was you who destroyed Nana's clock."

James's eyes widened, and I knew I had him. When we were twelve, through some sort of accident (_it had to be an accident; I don't think James would _intentionally_ break Nan's heart_) that the adults and everyone except me, could never figure out, Nan's precious clock that told, not the time, but the whereabouts of her sons, daughter, and husband, was torn to pieces. It was able to be fixed, but Uncle Fred's hand wouldn't go back on. They all took a turn at it, they tried _everything_, but nothing would get it back on. Nan was distraught, and Aunt Ginny was on a rampage to find out who had done it. James never said how or why he had done it, but I knew it was him. "Fine, fine," James blurted quickly, shaking his head. "I swear on the Marauder's map that I won't get you mixed up in one of Al's schemes." He held out his hand expectantly. "Deal?"

"Deal," I said triumphantly, smirking. "Now, let's go get some dinner. I assume Jenna will be in on this plan?"

"Have you been popping potions?" James nearly shouted, rolling his eyes. "Jenna would never intentionally screw with someone's homework, unless it's Malfoy. I don't know why, but she's got it out for him, badly." He shrugged, shaking his head. He looked at me shrewdly. "_Don't_ tell her about this. I'll never hear the end of it."

"Alright, _alright_," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Well, when are we going to do this? More importantly, what are you going to tell Jen you're doing? She's going to notice you gone, since I assume that this is going to take some time."

James frowned. "Well, I really hadn't thought about that…" He shrugged. "I just thought it sounded cool."

"Are you sure this isn't Al's idea?" I demanded, knowing that James, being as easily distracted as he is, was very susceptible to the Confundus charm. And I also knew that Albus wouldn't be above using it on his brother; Al was very dedicated to making his own name to get out of the shadow of his father's, and he thought that inventions were the way to do it. Unfortunately, Al's presence just tended to cause eruptions and explosions of all sorts. Unfortunately for everyone but Albus, that is- for some odd reason, he seemed to get some creepy satisfaction from it. _Slytherins_, I tell you.

"Yes," James said vehemently.

"Let's just get some dinner," I grumbled, shaking my head. I glanced at him, and grinned. "I think I know how to keep Jenna distracted." At James's questioning glance, I added, "Gabriel Vega."

James's brows pulled together, confused. "That dog-looking Ravenclaw? What's he got to do with Jen?"

"'Dog-looking'?" I asked, amused.

James made a few gestures that I couldn't understand, his face screwed up as he tried to explain. "I dunno; he looks like one of those Labrador's that Aunt Hermione has. All golden and… dog-like." He shrugged. "So what does he have to do with Jen?" James repeated, frowning.

"That's who she left the party with last Friday night," I said quickly, smirking before I realized my mistake. I rushed to clap my hand over James's mouth, but I was too late.

"_Last Friday night, yeah, we danced on table tops, and we took too many shots, think we kissed but I forgot, last Friday night_!" James sang, mimicking a sexy dance (it might've been sexy, but as it was also my very male and very cousinly cousin who was doing them, there was no way to tell) while still eluding me.

"James, shut up!" I screeched, running to catch him while trying to plug my ears. James had become obsessed with this song last summer, after he had heard it on Granddad's Muggle radio. He wouldn't shut up with it for anything.

"_Last Friday night, yeah we maxed our credit cards, and got kicked out of the bar, so we hit the boulevard, last Friday night!_" James shook his ass, grinning at me. He paused for a moment, and I jumped on him, tackling him to the ground. We rolled a few times, until I had him pinned. He just looked up at me, wiggling his nose to right his askew glasses, and asked, "Freddie, what's a credit card?"

I rolled off of him, trying not to grin at my stupidity. Nothing brought James down, and it was just dumb for me to even try anymore. I hadn't seen James really upset since… well, since we were kids and he broke Nan's clock. "Let's just go find Jen, yeah? And quit that singing."

Ω

As it turned out, James didn't know what 'quit' meant, so I had to endure a chorus of Call Me Maybe, I Kissed A Girl, Waking Up In Vegas (James _really_ likes this Katy Perry girl), and the horrendous 'Friday' by that Black girl in America. Hopefully she isn't related to James's namesake, or he would be so disappointed.

"Can't you shut up for just a minute?" Jenna exploded, exasperated, looking at me helplessly while gesturing to James, who was grinning proudly. Of course. I shrugged, (_It's James; what can you do?_) and Jen scowled. James started chattering away again, and Jen got a look in her eyes I didn't like. Before I knew what had happened, James had a face full of pudding and Jenna was smiling triumphantly. "Well, it got him to shut up," she said defensively, grinning. (_Hell, maybe I _did_ like that look of hers_)

James blinked owlishly behind his vanilla-frosted glasses, and he licked around his mouth, smacking his lips. Amazingly, he laughed. "Thanks, Jen! I do like this pudding." He then proceeded to steal a spoon out of Rose's hands, scrape it against his cheek, and shove it in his mouth happily.

"How do you even do that with a straight face?" Rose asked disgustedly, wrinkling her nose.

Jenna, struggling to keep from laughing, murmured, "Well, his face isn't really _straight_, you see- he's smiling." She dabbed her finger on James's other cheek and licked off the pudding. "He's right; it is pretty good. Try some, Freddie?" She held out her finger to me, and James offered his face. (_Don't. Even. Ask._)

"Um, no thank you," I muttered, shaking my head. I mean, my lord! Now she's licking pudding off of his face. When would they realize that they were perfect for each other?

_Flash!_ I blinked, shaking my head. "What the hell was that?"

My little cousin Louis appeared from behind a large professional-looking camera, grinning. "Sorry, Fred. I had to get a picture of this for Aunt Ginny. She wants me to document all of James's embarrassing moments so she can use them against him, but I think she'll want this as well; she needs a bit of a laugh."

Well, I couldn't argue with that. Ginny had been getting more and more morose with Granddad's progressing illness. I think, despite that she calls him a nutter for his Muggle fascination (_which both of her sons happen to share_), she is truly a daddy's girl. There had been no getting her to smile for a week after she'd learned that Granddad was sick. It hit her hardest out of all of the adults, except perhaps Nan, but she understood that Granddad's time was soon approaching, whereas Ginny could not accept losing her father. Dad had always had a soft spot for his only sister, and he had made it his personal mission to invent some prank worth eliciting a smile from her. He had even extracted help from all of the nieces and nephews, along with Roxanne and me. It seemed to be the whole family's mission; now even little second-year Louis was in on it. Even James hadn't been getting into quite as much trouble as before. Now, I said _quite_; he was still James, after all. No matter what Jenna said, we would all have been disappointed if James had completely lost his mischievous streak. Especially me; we are getting on that damned map before we had to relinquish it to Albus, Rose, Roxanne, and that lot.

"Are you two finished eating James's face, or do I have to write you up for PDA in the Great Hall?" Rose asked, pursing her lips and trying not to look too bored.

James, getting a gleam in his eye that I knew very well, smiled sweetly at our dear cousin. "You don't have to write us up for that, Rosy-Posy," he simpered. He and Jenna shared an evil look, and I frowned, feeling a little left out. "You'll have to write us up for this!" And they pushed a cream pie into Rose's face. What is it with James, Jen, and pushing food into people's faces?

Left out or not, the look on Rose's face was priceless. She was stunned, as expected, and she seemed frozen to the spot. All of Gryffindor table were staring at her, watching the scene unfold, and half of the Great Hall was getting in on this little comedy, as well. Jenna, sensing Rose's return to the real world, shouted, "Run!" Grabbing James's hand, she leapt across the table and practically flew across the Great Hall, she was running so fast. James was right behind her, looking behind him and grinning cheekily, waving cockily at Rose before turning frontwards and disappearing into a corridor.

Rose's mouth opened, and I think my ears started to bleed. "_I'm going to kill them!_"

Ω

_Jenna's POV_

"How long do you think it will take Rose to find us?" I asked breathlessly, grinning at James. We were stashed inside of a broom cupboard that was kind of hard to find unless you leaned against it and fell through, like James had done in our first year, when Teddy still had the map.

James wiped his sweaty brow, and he shrugged. "It's Rose. So, if she hasn't enlisted the help of every Weasley family member in the school, she'll never find us. But if she has – and you know she has – … well, you know how we are." He grinned proudly, and I rolled my eyes. It was his fault they were all so bloody good and sneaky; he taught the lot of them how to be.

"Well, none of them have the map, so we should be safe for a while." At James's guilty look, I glared. "We _do_ have the map, right?"

James shifted uncomfortably. "Well, um…"

"You mean we shoved a pie in Rose's face and ran away without the map?" I whispered, terrified. Rose Weasley had her mother's brains and her father's temper and bad sense. If she found us after we humiliated her in front of the whole school, even if it was just one of our stupid pranks, she was going to kill us. She would kill us. She would find the Marauder's map from James's dormitory, steal the invisibility cloak from Albus, enlist the help of all the Weasleys and Potters… "She's going to kill us."

James grinned nervously. "Not if we hide in the one place that isn't on the map."

"The Room of Requirement?" I asked, exasperatedly. Almost everyone knew about that room by now; it was our usual party spot. Well, I guess not many people knew how to use it, they just knew that it appeared when we partied.

"Why not? It's not like they can get in, thanks to Allie's information from her dad." Allie Longbottom, Professor Longbottom's only daughter and our fellow seventh year, had weaseled out of her dad how to make the Room of Requirement impenetrable to outsiders in our fifth year.

"But it's not like we can stay holed up in there forever," I pointed out, frowning. Rose would get us eventually, and surely McGonagall had seen, or heard, what we'd done. "How many points do you think we lost?"

James shrugged, unaffected. "Fifty? Maybe more, if McGonagall's in a bad mood today. But it's no problem; we'll win them back in the Quidditch match after trials tomorrow." He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Are you going to come watch?"

"I suppose," I decided, shrugging. I hadn't really planned on it; I didn't want to be around if Ginny told Lily why she would get the position and the little imp ratted me out, but I did usually come see James's trials to judge his choices. For some reason, he valued my opinion on Quidditch-related topics, for all that I can't play. "If I don't have anything better to do," I added with a smirk, nudging James playfully.

"Like what?" James scoffed, grinning. Alright, fine; he knew that I loved watching him fly, but that didn't mean that he could use that. For all he knew, I did have something better to do.

"Maybe I have a date," I said slyly, turning my head away so he couldn't see my face. The truth was, Gabe _had_ asked me out for the day of the trials, but I declined, knowing James would expect to see me there.

"You? A date?" James rolled his eyes. "Who'd ask you out?"

I rounded on him, glaring. "Lots of people."

"Sure, sure," James said, rolling his eyes. Suddenly, he cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Do you hear that?" He asked quietly.

I strained to hear something that could have worried James, but all I could hear was our quiet breathing and the hoots of the owls on the other side of the corridor. "What are you ta–"

But I was cut off by the cupboard door opening and a shrill scream greeting us in the doorway. With her flaming red hair puffed up around her face and murderous blue eyes, Rose looked like the devil come to take us to hell. I suspected what waited for us now wasn't too far away from that, either.

Ω

_Al's POV_

"God, Al," Maggie whispered, her eyes rolling up into the back of her head with pleasure. She rolled onto her side and ran a hand through her already-mussed hair. She inched close to me, brushing her lips over mine in a way that drove me wild. "You are amazing," she whispered, her eyes shining in the dark moonlit room.

I raked my eyes over the girl who owned my heart, but didn't want it. Her bare legs were tangled up in the pale blue sheets of the bed, her caramel skin gleaming where the moonlight touched it. One of her hands rested on my bare chest, blood-red fingernails glinting, and the other rested comfortably between us. Her mocha eyes were closed, and her curly hair cascaded gently down her shoulders, except where it stuck up cutely on her scalp. Her lips, so plump and sensual that it made me ache to kiss her and make her mine, just by looking at them, were slightly open, a soft sigh slipping through. I leaned in to kiss the beautiful mouth, but hesitated. Her eyes opened, and those lips turned up into a grin. "Why are you staring at me?" She said, faux self-consciously. She batted her eyelashes like a coquette, and I hardened my heart. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was doing it to fuck with me. For one second, I had hoped… but then, I had always hoped. The look on her face after we made love, the contentment that I felt when she rested in my arms… I hoped, and she always proved me wrong.

"Because you look… odd." I wrinkled my nose with distaste, and she narrowed her eyes, her expression annoyed. I felt a triumph; I may not win the war, but the least I could say was that I had won some battles.

"What do you mean, _odd_?" She snapped, scowling. She sat up, fixing and fluffing her hair, almost absently.

"I dunno," I said casually, knowing that with every second that passed, Maggie got more and more paranoid.

Maggie got out of the bed, pulling on her skirt. "You are such an ass, Al," she hissed, pulling on my white shirt and buttoning it up.

"That has a Slytherin badge on it," I offered helpfully, watching as she ripped it off and flung it to the floor. Not that it mattered, I had plenty of shirts, but she flung the badge away as if touching something Slytherin would burn her. She didn't think Slytherin was good enough, so how could she think _I _was good enough? Who would really care for the renegade Potter, the Slytherin in the family of noble Gryffindors? "Sexy, Mags," I threw in sarcastically, giving her my practiced sardonic smirk.

"Go to hell, Potter," she spat, grabbing her bag and rushing out of the Room of Requirement. She slammed the large wooden door, and I sighed, burying my face in my hands. I ran a hand through my hair, and I tried to tell myself that it would be okay. The awful things that we said to each other were for a purpose. The less I cared, the more she wanted me. The more she wanted me, the harder I fell, and I couldn't give up my fix now. As much as I hated it, I just had to play the game. Albus Potter was fighting back.


	3. Smells Like Teenage Spirit

"Will you quit your sputtering? I'm trying to do homework," I snapped, glaring at James. He stuck his tongue out at me and continued his rant. I swore I was going to kill him one of those days. "If you're going to be annoying, could you at least clue me in on what you're rambling about?"

James scowled. "My _mother_ came to Quidditch trials. She _made_ me let Lily try out, ordering me about in front of my whole team."

"Interesting," I murmured, pausing to glance at my cousin's expression. "Who got Chaser, then?"

"Well, Lily did," James admitted, crossing his arms. "Something you would know, had you agreed to Keep for us," he added, still annoyed I turned down the position three years ago.

Completely ignoring his last sentence, I asked, "Was that your mum's fault?"

"Of course it was! She's the one who made me let her try out." James was about to continue on his rant, but I stopped him with a look.

"Well, did anyone outfly her?" I asked sensibly, even though I already knew. No one I knew would be able to outfly Lily, especially when she was as determined to make the team as she was. Even her own brothers would have a tough time beating her.

"No," James muttered grudgingly, eyes narrowed, and I could tell how much he hated admitting it.

"Then quit blubbering. It wasn't your mum's fault that Lily was the best; and think: if your mum hadn't showed up, it would have been your own stupidity that left you out the best Chaser that you'll ever have."

James sighed, starting to agree, until my words sunk in. "Hey! _I'm _a Chaser!" He shouted indignantly.

I grinned. "Your point?" James glared at me, jumping out of the chair he had occupied and stalking out of the library, muttering loudly something about '_idiot girls_', but he'll get over it. He always did. And now, he was _finally _out of my way, so I could get my work done.

"Hey, Rose." _Or not_. I glanced up, only to find Scorpius Malfoy smirking down at me. "What'cha doing?"

"Homework," I said shortly, hoping he'd go away. I had _just _gotten rid of James. Now I had to deal with Malfoy? _Why, wizard God, why oh why do you hate me so much?_

Instead of going away, Scorpius plunked down into James's recently vacated chair. I scowled, but he didn't seem to register how unwelcome he was. He peeked around my arm, curled protectively around the parchment, and grinned. "Potions, eh? Can't say I'm too fond of it, for all that Quoin is head of Slytherin." He wrinkled his nose. "I'd rather be in Herbology or Charms, any day. Longbottom's great, and Charms is really my thing, anyway."

"Cool." I dipped my quill, hoping to get on with my essay; Quoin was as strict as McGonagall was rumored to be, when she still taught Transfiguration, back in my dad's day. Though, from what Dad told me, she had a soft spot for him, Mum, and Uncle Harry, whereas Quoin seems to despise us all. I mean, sixteen inches on the effects of wolfsbane? The most complicated reasoning I could give was only reaching about ten inches, and that was mostly filled with waffle.

"We could work together on it," Scorpius hedged, a grin still on his ridiculously optimistic face. "Might make the time go by faster, even if the essay is total busywork."

I glanced at him and sighed. He seemed to be completely serious, and he lacked his constant companion, i.e. Albus Potter, so I felt sorry for him. "Fine. But _don't_ do anything stupid. I actually want to get this done."

He shrugged and smiled, pulling out a brand new piece of parchment and a quill. I gaped at him. "You haven't even _started_?!"

"Miss Weasley! Quiet in the library!" Madame Pince shouted, glaring, a holier-than-thou expression on her pinched face. "I thought you, of all people, would respect the importance of silence in the library. With whom your mother is… But, I see, you must have gotten all of your _father's_ genes." She turned up her nose, walking away, leaving me furious and glaring in her direction.

Scorpius's chuckle almost sent me over the edge. "Are you okay? You look like steam is about to come out of your ears." He grinned conspiratorially.

"Back off," I growled, still glaring. He looked taken aback. "I don't know karate, but I do know crazy, and I'm not afraid to use it."

Scorpius looked as if he wasn't sure how to respond, and I grinned. Slowly, a grin lit up his face, and, though there was nothing really to cause it, soon we were laughing raucously, which caused us to be, er, _escorted_ out of the library, our essays confiscated as if they were dirty novels.

"Sorry about that," Malfoy apologized once we were outside of the library, the ghost of a grin on his lips. "I didn't really mean for our stuff to get confiscated."

"It's fine," I assured him, shrugging. "Anyway, mine was mostly bull, anyway. I could tell you what wolfsbane does in three inches, I could lengthen it to about ten at the most, but after that, I start repeating myself."

Scorpius chuckled. "Same here, mate." He stopped short and blanched, quickly backtracking. "Uh, not that I'm assuming we're mates or anything, I just-"

"Calm down, Malfoy; it's fine." He seemed to be extremely relieved that I wasn't going to start screaming at him for insinuating we were friends, and I felt a rush of indignation. It wasn't as if I shouted for _everything_. Just important things, which there happen to be a lot of, thank you very much!

"So," Scorpius started, looking at his feet.

I suddenly noticed the rather awkward silence that had ensued. So, like any other sensible person would have done, I blurted out the first thing I could think of. "Er, I have to go. Important prefect meeting; can't be late."

Scorpius paused, an unreadable expression on his face. It vanished quickly as his lips quirked up into a small smile. "Of course," he murmured politely, his smile a little too knowing for my taste. Nonetheless, I made my escape, jogging until I reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

And that's when I remembered: Scorpius was a prefect, too.

Ω

_Scorpius' POV_

"So, how's your 'wooing Rose' plan working out?" Al asked me, a knowing smirk on his lips.

I rolled my eyes and started ticking off the events of earlier today on my fingers. "We were going to do Quoin's idiotic essay, but then she freaked 'cause I haven't started yet, Pince insulted her dad, and she went bat-shit crazy. We started laughing, got kicked out, and she pretended to have prefect meeting."

Al looked confused. "But, you're a prefect, too. You'd both have to attend."

I laughed, and it sounded hollow, even to me. "It seems I'm more invisible than we thought."

"Except when people want to blame you for shit," Al growled, but his anger melted after a moment. He started to chuckle. "Sorry, mate, but that's kind of funny. Rose is the most observant person I know, and she didn't even remember that you've both been going to the same meetings for about two years now. So, are you still going to go through with it?"

_My plan to pursue Rose romantically?_ I had to think about it. I pursed my lips, leaning back in my chair. I'd been instructed to stay away from the Weasley/Potter family ever since I was a child, which made me all the more curious when I got to Hogwarts, and Al and I were Sorted into the same House. Then he started to introduce me to his family, and since he's never away from his cousins for long (Hogwarts is half Weasley; even if he wanted to, he couldn't) and he's never away from me for long, it was bound to happen that I'd meet them and disobey my father's wishes. Blatantly disobeying sort of bugged me when I was younger, but it had been awhile since I felt guilty for it. I knew that my father only wished to keep me from them because he had 'done them a disservice' while they were in school (although I suspected it was more like they all hated each other) and he was sure that the children of his enemies would be cruel to his only child: me. Turns out, they were just as curious about me as I was about them. Except Rose. She had hated me from the start, which piqued my interest even more. I'd been hedging for years, pretending that I hated her as well, but Albus knew, and he wouldn't let me forget it.

"Come on. She turns you down once, and you give up?" Al taunted with a grin.

"Not everyone wants a dysfunctional relationship like you and Mags," I threw back, scowling. He didn't even flinch, just chuckled as if he knew something I didn't.

"Mags and I are fine, Scorp, old boy. It's you and Rose who need some work," he said smoothly, effectively moving the spotlight off of him and Maggie and back onto me and Rose.

"There isn't a 'me and Rose'," I said irritably. "There won't ever be."

Al rolled his eyes. "Well, of course not, if you have that attitude. Come on, man, grow a pair." He winked, smirking at me as if he had proved his point. I nodded, hoping to get him off of my back. Life was easier when Al wasn't encouraging you to do something. The kid had more ambition than Slytherin himself, enough pride to match any Gryffindor, not to mention the brains of a Ravenclaw. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it. It's no wonder the Sorting Hat took almost ten minutes deciding on where to place him.

Interrupting my internal monotony, Albus got out of his chair, patting me on the shoulder and giving me a smirk. "I'll be back, Malfoy. I've got a few things I need to take care of." I watched him leave and shook my head; he was going to see Maggie and get his heart broken again.

Ω

_Jenna's POV_

"Jen," Al Potter greeted me with an incline of his head. He had seated himself at the most secluded table in the library, something which I both appreciated and didn't like. I appreciated the seclusion from others, for our conversation would get me into trouble if it were to get out, but I didn't like the thought of people knowing that I was in a private spot with Al Potter. Not that Al wasn't attractive, in his own I'm-in-Slytherin-and-I-don't-give-a-damn-what-you- think way, but he just wasn't… well, he was my best mate's little brother, and that's how I had taken to viewing him, as well.

"Alright, so, how did he take it?" I asked bluntly, positioning myself across the table from him, so I could see everything. Despite him being nearly identical to the Chosen One, Al wasn't his trustworthy father. He was a deceitful, untrustworthy Slytherin, who used his good looks and charm to get what he wanted. And I meant that in the nicest possible way, of course. I loved Al; he was one of my good friends. He was lovely to his friends, you couldn't ask for a better one. It's just, you really didn't want to get on his bad side; for that, he could measure up to old Voldy if he really wanted to. But of course, he wouldn't. He wasn't that evil.

Of course, Al knew exactly what I was talking about. Not much passed by without his knowledge. "He's furious that Mum showed, but he's starting to accept that Lily was the best person for the position. Something that I'm averse to, for much different reasons than James." He sighed, shaking his head. "If only Lily were in Slytherin; I could use her talent to rip the Gryffindor team to shreds." He grinned malevolently, looking rather like someone who had won the lottery and was planning to use the cash to fulfill their dream of world domination.

"Quit it with the bloodlust, Al; you're being creepy."

"You never said I couldn't be creepy, you just said I had to show up," Al countered, grinning.

"And keep your mouth shut, don't forget about that part," I reminded him, scowling. Sighing, I twisted the signet ring on my pinky finger. "I have a date this Saturday."

"With my brother? You've got to be kidding me." Al smirked, but his eyebrows furrowed when he saw my expression. "Er… Not with James, then?"

"No. I'm going to Hogsmeade with Gabriel," I said slowly, watching Albus's face. He sighed, shaking his head. "What's your problem?" I asked defiantly, daring him to say anything.

He raised his eyebrows. "I was just thinking that James is going to have a fit when he finds out."

"He will not, Al. Why would he?"

Albus sighed a long, drawn-out sigh. "Because of his massive love for you, you idiot!"

Blood rushed to my face. "He doesn't love me, Albus! We're just friends."

Albus rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, princess. Anyway, I'm curious. Why exactly did you agree to go on a date with the most eligible chap in Hogwarts? If we had a magazine, he'd be on the cover of every issue, whether it was run by boys or girls. The guys admire his skill and charm, while the girls are too busy fawning over him to notice anything else." He looked at me with those critical green eyes, and I averted my gaze.

"Gabriel is all that you said, and I wanted to see what it would be like to finally be wanted by someone. So I figured maybe I could get some experience in," I admitted.

Al chuckled. "So, you're playing the player? This ought to be interesting. Can I watch?"

"No! What would he think, having you trail after us the whole day?"

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it discreetly," Al scoffed. "What do you take me for, some incompetent Hufflepuff?" I frowned. Al was a little discriminatory towards Hufflepuff, but I'd always thought that was because he had no family there; he knew nothing of the people there, like he did of the other Houses. "Besides," he drawled, smirking, "it's not like he'd care. He'd just think I was another gawker, come to have a look at him. He'd probably puff up under the attention."

"No!" I said vehemently, scowling at the little weasel (not that I'd _ever_ call him that to his face; he would have taken it as an insult to his family).

Instead of laughing it off, Albus got a serious look on his face. "Jenna, I know you're a big girl and everything, but… Just be careful, okay? Gabriel's reputation among the lads is, well, less than stellar, if you catch my drift." He squirmed uncomfortably, and I wanted to hug him. I almost forgot that Al had a soft side; probably because he showed it to about three people: his mother, sister, and gran.

"Thanks for the concern, but I know what I'm doing," I assured him. He shrugged, giving me a wan smile and leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes. I knew a dismissal when I saw one, so I got up and started to walk away. When I neared the exit, though, I turned back and took a peek at my sometimes-best-friend. He had his head in his hands, those slender fingers knotted in the already-messy black tangles, his glasses pushed up and his face contorted with… not rage, but something I almost didn't think Albus possessed the ability to feel. He looked like he was torn with grief, frozen by sadness; I wanted to go to him, stroke his hair like I would do for Lily when she was upset, but I knew I would just make it worse. This was Albus's way. He would work it out in his own good time, without help from anyone else. As I walked away, I realized that the thought of it made me incredibly sad.

"Oi, you!"

Lexie Stafford looked at me, eyebrows raised, and I made a face. "Not you; YOU!"

Allie Longbottom turned around, sighing, hands shoved roughly in her jacket pockets. "What do you want, Freddie?"

"I need your help." Simple and sweet, the way Allie liked it. Well, how she liked most things; she was really complicated when we dated, but that's a whole other story, one that I don't prefer to get into.

"With what?" She asked, exasperated, glancing back at her friend who had already left her. I eyed Stafford's back with a frown. "Aren't you Hufflepuffs supposed to be loyal, or summat?"

That earned me a punch on my shoulder. Damn, but I forgot how strong she was. Professor Longbottom (or Neville, like we call him when he comes round for dinner with Hannah, Allie, and her brothers, Frankie, Johnny, and Judah) taught her how to defend herself, and I didn't blame him. Everyone knew what happened to his parents when he was just a baby; of course he'd be paranoid about the second Alice Longbottom getting hurt. Of course, no one would have come within sixty feet of Allie with the intention of hurting her, for fear of her father – well, except me. But I was special; always have been.

"Fred. Freeeed. Fred!" Allie yelled, trying to get my attention and looking quite frustrated, too.

I smirked. "How can I help you, sweets?"

_That_ almost earned me a kick in the you-know-whats, had I not been blessed with great reflexes. Or was it that Allie was slow? Yeah, maybe she was just slow. Not that I'd tell her that in a million years; last thing I need is for her to castrate me. Thanks but no thanks; I like my junk a little too much to subject them to that kind of torture. Now, Allie looked pissed. "You ripped me from my friend for this? Fred, _you're_ the one who asked me for help, not the other way around, you idiot."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Sorry, lamb. I got a little carried away." I gave her my lopsided grin, the one my father says looks just like Uncle Fred's, and she softens a bit. Just a bit, because she was supposed to be mad at me, but I knew her. She always melted at this grin. "Now, can you pretty please help me and James with this one little plot? I know Hufflepuffs aren't exactly ingrained with the pranking gene, but–"

Allie cut me off with a mischievous smirk. "Despite your misconceived notions, dear Freddie, I'd be happy to help you and James in any sort of prank, and I'll best you both."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself, for a 'Puff," I mock, grinning at her attitude. Allie was really fun when she got like that.

"You're a little too hung up on House qualities, Freddie," she remarked idly, smirking. "Maybe you should be like the Slytherins. At least _they_ know not to underestimate us. Malfoy says we're too quiet." She wrinkled her nose, although she was still grinning like mad.

"Be like the Slytherins? What are you, mental?!" I gasped, horrified. Turning on my heel, I muttered playfully, "Maybe we don't need your help after all. 'Be like the Slytherins'; Honestly!"

As I expected, she ran to catch up with me, grabbing my wrist in her viselike grip. "Aw, Fred, dry up. You take one too many cracks at my house, and I'm bound to say a few things you don't like." Her words were dripping with charm, and her blue eyes sparkled, the way they did when she was enjoying herself. I much preferred them like this, instead of the way I had last seen them: iced over, cold, hard as rocks. When I had broken it off.

I wrenched my arm out of her grasp. "Alright, alright, I _suppose _you can help us," I allowed, trying not to give away how elated I am. How great am I! I had just tricked her into _wanting_ to do something that previously she was being so frustratingly dull about.

After we worked out a few of the sticky little details of our next meeting (this time with James present), I chuckled to myself. _Hell, maybe I _should_ be in Slytherin. I'm a charming bastard_, I thought proudly, smirking all the way to the common room. When I reached my favorite armchair, I frowned a bit. I broke it off with her, so I should be feeling fine about hanging out. But then, why was I so disappointed that, the next time I would see Allie, James would be there?


End file.
